


Common Denominator

by iammemyself



Series: Arkhamverse [20]
Category: Batman - All Media Types, Batman: Arkham (Video Games), Batman: Arkham - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Riddlecat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-13
Updated: 2018-02-13
Packaged: 2019-03-17 22:33:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13668678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iammemyself/pseuds/iammemyself
Summary: Old history is not quite enough to make things right. [pre-Arkham Knight]





	Common Denominator

‘Common Denominator’

By Indiana

 

Characters: Selina Kyle, Edward Nygma [Riddlecat]

Synopsis: Old history is not quite enough to make things right. [pre-Arkham Knight]

With thanks to [this drawing](http://koresart.co.vu/post/170771846763/yall-be-sleeping-on-this-ship-bonus) by [koresart](http://koresart.co.vu/)

 

 

 

Considering the circumstances, she probably should have seen this coming.

“Eddie, baby,” she began, wondering if she would be able to get through to him or not.  “You don’t need to keep me here.” He had strapped her into a chair and was now across the cold and dark room painted liberally with green that seemed to glow, fiddling with some display case or other that he had brought out of the floor. 

“And why is that,” Edward said, his back still to her. 

“You can defeat the Bat all by your lonesome, handsome.  You don’t need to resort to _kidnapping_.”

“Do you have any idea what Scarecrow is planning,” he said absently. 

“Wanna give me a hint?”

“Not really,” he answered.  “It is information only I appear to be privy to.  Needless to say, it will take quite a distraction to tear the Bat away from what _he_ has planned.”

“I’m flattered you think I’m so important.”  She moved her wrist experimentally.  The restraint wasn’t overly tight, but she wouldn’t be wriggling out of it, either.

“You are to some people.”

“Does one of them happen to be you?”

He glanced behind him.  “Perhaps.”

That was… odd, that he hadn’t outright denied it.  Maybe she could talk her way out of this after all

“But you’re willing to hurt me to get back at him,” she told him quietly.  He turned on her suddenly, the old anger she remembered so well on his face tightening her throat.

“It’s acceptable for you to choose him over me, but not the other way around?  Is that it?”

“What are you talking about?  I did come here to help _you_ , didn’t I?”

“Why?  Was he unavailable?  Did he reject you on the grounds of morality again and you elected to hang around here until he decided to change his mind?”

She had no idea what he was so angry about.  “You can’t _still_ be upset that we broke up.” 

He waved one arm and looked back at what he’d been doing.  “ _Broke_ up?  You’re the one who left _me_!  You’re the one who pretended everything was fine until a better offer came along.  I’m not falling for your tricks again.  This time the decision is _mine_.”

Oh, _now_ she got it.  He was upset about the way she’d ended the relationship back when he’d worked at the GCPD.  He’d been holding this grudge a long time, but she hadn’t really... _considered_ what she’d done.  She had just made her decision and not looked back.  But she had been young.  She’d made a mistake.  Surely he could understand that.

No; it was unclear if he understood much of anything right now.  She knew she’d made the right decision, all those years ago, even if she had been careless about it: all of the traits that had frightened her then were only magnified now.  She wasn’t sorry, exactly.  But she could admit she had been... cruel.

“He’s a lot like you, you know,” she said quietly.  He froze in his busywork.

“Is that so.”  His tone was decidedly guarded.

“He works as hard as you do.  You’re good at many of the same things.  He even talks in his sleep like you.”

“I do not,” he protested vehemently.

“Not even a little?” she teased gently.  She could just barely see him fold his arms.

“Not enough that it _matters_.  Besides.”  He put aside some tool and picked up a new one.  “If we’re so alike, then pray tell just what it is that he does better than I.”

Just how personal did she want to get?

“He keeps his anger to himself.”

Upon this Edward turned around, and she watched the sparse light reflect in an arc off his goggles as he did so.  “I would never have laid a hand on you,” he said, hushed.  She met his eyes as best she could in the dark.

“But I was afraid that you were going to.”

He said nothing.  She chanced continuing.

“Would you really have preferred I live in fear of you, instead of being able to walk away?  Would you have been able to respect someone who did that?  Would you have been able to live with the knowledge of how I felt, if I had stayed long enough for you to find out?”

“You never told me,” he answered, and his thumb was rubbing the hem of his shirt.  “How was I supposed to know?”

“I didn’t want to know what you’d do if I told you.”

“You didn’t trust me.”

“I did as long as I could.”

“And _he_ was better?  _He_ doesn’t trust you.  He doesn’t even try.  We can all see it a mile away.  But he was still the better option?”

“Eddie – “

“I accepted it when you walked away with no explanation,” he interrupted, turning back to the other side of the room.  “I accepted it when you treated us as though we had never been **.**   I cannot accept that you would forgive him and not me.”

“He’s not the one tying me to chairs and using me as bait,” she spat.  He paused.

“If he asked you to do such a thing to capture me… would you?”

She didn’t want to answer.  But he of course already knew.

“You would.  Because your own self-interest is tantamount, as always it has been.  And so it is with me now.  But you don’t like it when it is _you_ being put aside.”

“Remember why we’re here in the first place, Eddie,” she called out to him.  “I didn’t do this out of self-interest and you know it.  I gave you my trust.  Look what you did with it.  You _wasted_ it.  And on what.  A fight you can’t win.  A fight you don’t even _want_ to win, because if you _did_ you wouldn’t even know what to do with yourself.  The game is what you really care about.  Find a new one.  This has gone too far.”

“Shut up,” he snapped.

“Do you even recognise yourself in the mirror anymore?”

“Stop that.”

“Remember when we sat on the dock until we realised exactly what we had our feet in?  Or that time I helped you frame the cop who wouldn’t stop stealing your pens?  Or –“

“The only thing I remember,” he interrupted tiredly, “is that you told me you were coming back.  And you never did.  That eclipses everything else.  It _taints_ everything else.  That’s how little I meant to you.  So no need for this reminiscing.  It holds no meaning to either of us.”

“If it held no meaning,” she said softly, “then why did I come?”

“I don’t know.”  He was trailing a black strip of fabric through his fingers.  “I was hoping you wouldn’t.  But I knew that you would.

He came forward, fingers wrapping the piece of cloth over her eyes and tying it behind her head.  It was clean and soft, at least.  She could feel the heat of his body even in this cool room.  His gloved hand was lingering alongside her face.  He was hesitating. 

Or maybe being so close to her again was bringing back old memories, old impressions, old _feelings_ , of when things had been different.  Not better, or simpler.  But different.  She found herself wanting to know just _how_ different.  “Go ahead,” she whispered. 

After another few moments, he did.

His lips were soft and reverent.  They always had been.  She’d always liked that.  She tilted her head back and his hand firmed behind her neck as his mouth did against hers.  She had missed this, in all honesty.  It was clear that he felt the same.

Just when she was about to lose her breath he pulled away, though with arguable reluctance.  His hand had slipped downward to grip her shoulder.

“It’s not personal,” he murmured.  “You happen to be a common denominator.  That’s all.”

“You don’t have to do this.” 

“Oh but I do,” Edward said, and he let go.  “I will admit it, my dear.  I am still quite fond of you.  But that stopped being enough a while back.  You cannot just take a past you discarded and attempt to use it to your advantage.  I am not so sentimental.” 

He was.  But the opportunity to use it to her advantage had passed.  Nor was she sure any longer she even wished she could have.

“He’ll be here soon,” he continued, his footsteps carrying him some distance away.  “He’ll do that for you.  Be the Dark Knight.  He’ll untie you from the train tracks and swan dive off a building to catch you.  The big things.  But he won’t remember your birthday.  He doesn’t know the names of your cats.  He’s never there to wish you goodnight.  And that’s good enough for you, because you don’t mind being his damsel.  You just want to be rescued, over and over and over again.  Well, Selina… one of these days you’re going to have to rescue yourself.  Because he’s going to do the same to you as you did to me.  And you’ll be angry, and you’ll be confused, but most of all you’ll know you should have known.  And you will not let go.”  Silence, and then, in a whisper: “And why would you want to?”

“Eddie,” she said hesitantly, unsure if he was still there.

“Mm.”

“I’m sorry.”  And she meant it.

He was quiet for so long that she thought he had left, but then he said, “Thank you,” and there was the sound of a door closing, and all that was left for her to do then was think.


End file.
